


A Is For Avenger, B Is For Bucky

by lambchop33



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Avenger Sugar Cookies are a thing, Avengers Tower, Blow Jobs, Bucky is a baker, Consensual Sex, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shrunkyclunks, Tony likes cookies, dirty talking Steve, just pretend there are condoms, not safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 12:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lambchop33/pseuds/lambchop33
Summary: Prior to moving upstate, some of the Avengers live and train in Stark Tower in Manhattan. Some days Steve isn't sure if that's a good thing, or a bad thing. When he needs to get away for a breather, he accidentally stumbles upon a deli bakery containing the hottest baker he's ever seen. Bucky Barnes. Fluff and smut ensue.





	A Is For Avenger, B Is For Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> So after the carnage that was Infinity War, I just really wanted to write something happy and smutty and stress-free. This is it. Hopefully you'll get some good feels from it, cuz lord knows in the next year while we wait for A4, we're gonna need some.

Steve Rogers, Captain America, national icon and bastion of integrity, bravery and strength… is having a bad day.

Hey, training Avengers is a difficult business already, without having to deal with so many different personalities. Especially the biggest personality of them all. _Tony_. The name elicits both frustration and fondness in Steve’s head and heart at the same time. Thank goodness Steve has Nat there to help wrangle the man, or things probably would have come to blows already. 

“Seriously, Pepper after four margaritas can follow directions better than this!” Tony had barked at one point, flying up above them in one of his training suits. “Do you guys think I’m talking just to hear my own voice?” 

Hovering just off Steve’s flank, Sam covers his mouthpiece and grumbles to him, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Steve had choked down a laugh and covered his own irritation with Tony till they could speak in private. The whole training session had been an exercise in futility, but you had to expect that at first when people came from non-combat backgrounds. It took time to create that trust, that ability for a team to really work together, and you couldn’t force it. He learned that during the war. Tony’s impatience was just something else he would deal with…later.

After they’re through he takes a long, hot shower that does little to settle him down. He still has too much restless energy. Too much desire to punch something…or someone. Too much desire to just chuck it all and call it quits. He needs…

…he needs a _walk_. 

He steps out of the Tower in jeans, a t-shirt and a baseball cap makes him feel anonymous enough to make his way through the city streets without attracting too much attention to himself. In Manhattan, that’s pretty easy to do in general. It’s not like walking through the Brooklyn of old, but he likes seeing normal people, just going about their normal business. 

It grounds him, reminds him of the reason he agreed to do this in the first place—so regular folks could live out regular lives, free from the dangers Steve exposed himself to on a daily basis. Sometimes it made him long to just be one of those regular folks, but mostly it helped him to re-focus when he was feeling lost or discouraged. 

As he strolls along the busy sidewalk, enjoying the fine spring weather, his tension slowly dissipates. He doesn’t really pay attention to his direction, letting his feet take him where they may. Soon he’s on a street filled with cafés and shops that he doesn’t recognize much. Been a long time since he’s been down this way, apparently. 

Curiously he examines the shop signs, taking note of a deli/bakery he doesn’t recall seeing before, nestled between a bookstore and a tiny shop selling essential oils. Steve has no idea what to do with essential oils, but he knows what to do with deli and bakery food. His stomach rumbles its approval as he crosses the street, mentally reading the sign above the door. D & B Deli Bakery. 

Pushing in through the glass door, he inhales deeply. _Oh yeah._ If happiness had a scent, this would be it. Fresh baked bread combined with warm cookies. The scent rolls over him, gently teasing his nostrils and tickling his senses. There are a couple of customers ahead of him at the counter so he takes his time looking around. 

There are several tables spread out on either side of the aisle at the center, with wooden ladderback chairs in plenty. Since it’s a bit past two o’clock and the lunch hour has passed, no one currently is sitting at them. The floor and walls are white tile and the entire place is spotlessly clean and bright. Steve looks up at the menu posted on the wall—a plethora of sandwich and soup choices invites a moment of scrutiny, until he decides on a ham and Swiss on a sourdough bun. 

As he nears the window display his stomach growls sharply. A tantalizing array of cookies, cupcakes, scones and pies welcome him. His eye is caught by some sugar cookies—the soft kind, not the hard kind, with a thin layer of frosting. They remind him of his ma, may she rest in peace, and happy childhood memories. 

No one these days makes sugar cookies just like his ma, though Steve has searched far and wide for one that measured up. These look promising and he licks his lips subconsciously. The woman behind the counter and all the sinful-looking sweets smiles at him. She appears to be close to his own age, with raven hair, large doe-like eyes and full lips.

“Well hello there,” she greets him. “What can I get you?”

Steve gives her his sandwich order and glances at the display case. “And one sugar cookie.”

He receives a thumbs up sign and a, “You got it.”

She seems the friendly sort, so Steve decides to strike up a conversation with her as she busies herself with his sandwich. If there’s one thing the development of a friendship with Natasha Romanov has taught him, it’s to be more comfortable around women. 

“I’ve gotta ask…what do the D and B stand for in the shop’s name?”

Her wide, dark eyes center on him. “Deli…and…bakery,” she answers slowly.

Steve stares and blinks a couple times. Her expression is so inscrutable and serious, he can’t actually decide if she’s yanking his chain or not, until a grin cracks her face and she giggles. 

“I’m just kidding. It’s our names, oddly enough. Me and my partner, I mean.” She points at her chest. “I’m Darcy.” Then she points at Steve and her eyebrows lift suggestively. “And you are?”

“Steve,” he replies simply. “And your partner?”

She hooks a thumb toward the back of the store. “Bucky.”

“D and B,” Steve thinks aloud. 

Behind Darcy and the counter lies another door leading presumably to the kitchen. His ears pick up strains of music coming from the back of the shop. Not just any music, though—big band music. Glenn Miller’s _In The Mood_ , if he’s not mistaken, and it’s doubtful he is. 

“Wow,” he remarks nostalgically. “Haven’t heard that tune in a while.”

Darcy nods. “His favorite,” she reveals as she piles on the ham. “Says it helps him when he’s baking.”

“So the sugar cookies?” he leaves off the end of the question and she nods anyway, knowing what he means. 

“Bucky’s department. He handles the bakery part.”

“And you handle the deli part?”

Her wide smile returns. “Never met a meat I didn’t like.” The way her eyes drop to the rest of his body, just for an instant, makes Steve’s face feel warm, but he is saved from making any sort of reply when the door behind her swings open and a man steps through…

…the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen in his life. 

Another thing Steve has learned, independent of his friendship with Natasha, is that he likes guys. And this guy… holy Moses. Dark hair is cropped close to his head, highlighting the chiseled features of his face, delicate yet so very masculine at the same time. He’s wearing a white apron over jeans and a t-shirt, which does nothing to conceal his broad shoulders, trim waist, and thick biceps muscles. 

The man is looking down at the tray of cookies in his oven-mitt clad hands as he barrels through the doorway. “Darce!” he cries out excitedly. “I think I got it this time! You gotta try one of these!”

Finally he looks up and locks eyes with Steve, and Steve is a goner. Done and dusted. The eyes hook him hopelessly. Grey-blue like the sea on a stormy day, penetrating and keen. He looks surprised, as if he expected Darcy to be alone, but he quickly recovers. 

“Hi!” His voice is mellow and engaging. “Would you like a free cookie?” He holds the warm tray over the counter, reaching out in Steve’s direction. 

“Huh?” Steve says intelligently, not having recovered yet from the staggering amount of beauty and sex appeal that just walked through the door and into his life. Warmth radiates from the man like rays from the sun.

“Gimme!” Darcy bleats, picks up a cookie and holds it up in front of her face. “Come on Steve,” she says encouragingly, “Have a cookie!”

Steve’s eyes shift from Bucky to Darcy, then back again when Bucky echoes her cheerily. “Yeah, come on Steve, have a cookie!”

Darcy waves her cookie in the air. “Oh, where are my manners? Steve, this is Bucky, the B in D & B.”

Finally Steve’s brain catches up the current proceedings. “It’s nice to meet you, B,” he says teasingly, and Bucky’s smile dazzles him so much it’s like a sucker punch, pulling the air from his lungs. 

He looks down at the tray and tries to take in a deep breath to recover. Delicious looking chocolate cookies with some sort of chocolate chunk inside them are lined up in neat rows. They look out of this world good. The aroma coming from the tray is addictive. One thing the super serum did _not_ change about Steve was his sweet tooth. More specifically, his love for chocolate, ever present and everlasting. 

“Ohhhh!” he exclaims, selecting one cookie from the tray. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky returns, beaming. “It’s a new recipe so I need some unbiased opinions. Darcy just tells me everything is great, even if it sucks.” He rolls his eyes.

“Nothing you make sucks,” Darcy declares, and takes a large bite of cookie. 

“So not helpful!” Bucky teases her. 

Steve takes a bite as well, he and Darcy both ignoring the fact that his sandwich lies on the counter, half finished. As soon as the still-warm cookie touches his tongue, Steve is in seventh heaven. It’s soft on the inside, chewy on the outside, and so good he involuntarily moans with pleasure. That would be embarrassing except that Darcy is also making some interesting and suggestive sounds. 

“Oh, Buck! You got it! These are perfect!” she groans, eyes half closed. 

Licking gooey chocolate off his index finger, Steve nods. “She’s right, they’re perfect.”

Bucky’s reaction is one of delight and his smile makes Steve feel tingly throughout his entire body, like he used to feel when he was having an allergic reaction to something. Seriously, if he wasn’t sure the serum had erased any history of food allergy he had before, he’d bolt for the nearest hospital before his throat swelled shut. He hasn’t had this reaction to anyone in a very long time. So long, he doesn’t know what to do beside stand there, stuff cookie into his face and try not to openly stare. 

Belatedly, Bucky notices the partially created sandwich and apologizes. “Oh, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Darcy waves a hand dismissively. “The creative process comes first, right Steve?” She gives him a wink.

“Absolutely,” Steve agrees. Who is he to stand in the way of great cookie creation?

“Well, enjoy your lunch,” Bucky says, eyes lingering on Steve’s face. “I’ve got to get back in the kitchen before the next batch burns.”

Is it Steve’s imagination that he sounds reluctant? Bucky picks up his tray and turns, giving Steve a close-up view of his perfect derriere, encased in blue jeans that look as worn and old as the big band era itself. Before Bucky makes it to the door, Steve manages to verbalize another thought. 

“Thanks again for the cookie!” 

Bucky pauses with his back against the door, ready to shove it open using his delectable-looking ass. “Anytime. FYI, mid-afternoons are testing time.” He then disappears through the door as suddenly as he appeared.

Steve starts going to the deli bakery almost every day.

 

\--

It’s pretty hard to hide something from a spy. Especially a spy of high caliber like Natasha. After Steve’s fourth unexplained mid-afternoon solo trip out of the Tower, she threatened to plant a tracking device on him. After the seventh, she was ready to have him thrown into solitary until he talked. 

In the spirit of being cooperative (and also giving in because Natasha was about to throttle him) he takes Sam, Clint, and her to lunch the following day. Vision and Wanda stay behind and Tony, well, Tony was Tony. He was buried somewhere in a lab doing who knows what. Steve decided to take them during the typical lunch hour rather than later in the afternoon, hoping to satisfy Nat’s curiosity without her actually being able to ask Bucky or Darcy a lot of prying questions, because they would be busy. 

Busy was an understatement. As they approach the shop Steve can see through the front windows just how crowded it is, and it’s quite a departure from the quiet pace that was the norm later in the afternoon. As the four of them step into the back of the line, which is just inside the front door, Steve notices two college-aged kids also working behind the counter next to Darcy. Bucky is nowhere in sight. 

Clint and Sam are both preoccupied with the menu and are already discussing what soups sound the best, but Steve notices Natasha’s eyes scanning the room, then landing on his quizzically. She doesn’t get it and Steve isn’t about to let her in on his secret voluntarily, so he has to hide his smile and go for distraction. 

“The French Onion soup is delicious,” he murmurs helpfully, and her eyes narrow. 

Behind him, Clint shouts out, “Chicken tortilla soup! Outstanding!” He claps Steve on the back. “Cap for the win!”

Natasha’s head swings around. “You haven’t even tasted the food yet, Clint!”

Clint’s hand lifts into the air, palm up. “Just look at this crowd! Besides, he wouldn’t bring us here if the food was crappy, would he?”

Natasha sniffs. “Depends on what other _attractions_ there are.”

While Steve pretends to be not listening at all, Sam laughs and has his back for him. “Nat, would you stop being a secret agent and just enjoy lunch? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

“Okay, _Freud_ ,” she says to Sam, followed by a little “hmmmff” sound. 

Steve is glad for the support. He’s been coming here every day to see Bucky, but hasn’t actually worked up the courage do more than that...just come and see him. He’s gathered through conversation that Bucky and Darcy are partners only in the business sense, and neither have a significant other, but that’s it. He shoots Sam a thankful look and turns his gaze to the front again. Just then Bucky strolls through the swinging door to help fill orders too, and Steve hears a tiny puff of air escape from Natasha’s lips. He sneaks a glance at her and sure enough, she’s spotted Bucky. Steve cringes internally. He _knows_ , he just _knows_ she’s on to him. 

Her head slowly rotates back to him and when she sees the guilty look on his face, her eyes light up like a pinball machine. The throws a glance over her shoulder at Sam. “And sometimes,” she croons, “A cigar is an intriguing and attractive shopkeeper.”

She reaches up and pats Steve’s cheek gently with one hand as Steve huffs out a breath. Fortunately Clint and Sam are hungry enough that Natasha’s comments roll right off of them like water off a duck’s back.

“Whatever,” Clint states. “I just want some soup.”

“What’ll you bet me the capicola here is spicier than that place Stark likes?” Sam ventures.

Steve could kiss them both. Thank goodness for dudes who don’t care about the status of your sex life. He glances forward again—Bucky is busy with customers and hasn’t seen him yet, nor has Darcy. 

The line moves fast, thanks to the two extra employees and the stockpile of pre-made sandwiches for the lunch rush, and before long they are up at the counter. 

“Steve!” Darcy waves off one of her helpers and leans over the low part of the counter. “You brought your peeps today!” Holding up her index finger in a signal for him to wait, she turns to Bucky, down at the other end. “Buck!” she yells to get his attention. “Look who it is!” She shifts her attention back to him and lifts her eyebrows, ready to take his order. 

Steve is about to defer to Natasha first but is distracted by Bucky, who had just finished up whatever he was doing. His face lights up with a brilliant smile when he sees who’s at the counter. 

“Steve!” he calls out and steps up next to Darcy. “You escaped from work early today?” he jokes, and his eyes shift to Steve’s friends as he motions to them.

“Bucky, Darcy, this is Natasha, Sam and Clint.” 

“Lovely to meet you,” Natasha purrs. 

Steve is in deep shit and he knows it. She never sounds like that unless she’s moving in for a kill. 

Everyone else exchanges greetings and he purposefully avoids looking directly at his sole female companion. “Why don’t you order first, Nat?” he says, addressing her chin. His eyes are high enough that he can plainly see her dangerous smile.

“Why sure,” she replies sweetly, and turns to Darcy. 

_Crap,_ Steve thinks, and transfers his eyes to Bucky again. “B, How did your rye bread turn out?” he asks, as Bucky had been testing that out yesterday when Steve was there. Even if he’s giving himself away beyond a shadow of a doubt, he can’t _not_ talk to Bucky. Too late, he wonders if maybe he shouldn’t have used the nickname B in front of her, but it really did stick after that first day, and now _not_ using it would be strange. 

Wrinkling his nose adorably, Bucky states, “Still working on that one.” He moves closer. “So what do you want to try today?”

Steve has been slowly working his way through the entire menu. Today he picks a pastrami sandwich and chicken noodle soup. 

“Good choice,” Bucky tells him, nodding his approval. “Darcy’s pretty proud of her chicken noodle.” 

Between him and Darcy, they all have their orders taken. As usual, the pair don’t let on if they realize there are four Avengers standing in their restaurant. Steve fucking _loves_ it. He assumes they do know, because he’s been having regular discourse with them both for the past two weeks and neither of them ever inquire as to what he does for a living. Getting asked how his day is going is common—they just aren’t specific as to his career choice. 

Steve likes it that way—he never feels like he’s on stage. They make him feel like just one of those normal people, having a normal day, even when an hour before, he may have had a dozen flying robots launching grenades at him. It’s refreshing and wonderful to get to know someone who doesn’t seem to care a lick about your fame. 

Since there are no tables in the shop available to sit down at, they get their food to go and walk back to the Tower to eat. Steve’s smitten level is so high, he’s disappointed he can’t make a second trip back to D & B later, as he didn’t really get to talk much to Bucky on that first trip.

But if he did that, Natasha would never let him live it down.

Everyone agrees that the food is delicious, however, and that return trips in the future are definitely warranted. Natasha pulls him aside later and asks him when he and Bucky are going out.

Steve fidgets, but doesn’t bother asking how she knows he wants to date Bucky. His silence doesn’t deter her in the slightest degree.

“You know he’s gay, right? You at least found that out already?”

His head hangs. “I know he’s unattached…” he states and trails off. No, he’s not even really sure about that. Boy, he really does suck at reconnaissance. 

The corner of her mouth turns up just a hair. “I got you covered, Cap. He’s _gay_. You should ask him out.”

Steve’s head tilts in confusion. “What?”

The Russian’s face is serene. “Already got the scoop from Darcy. She can’t figure out why you two aren’t dating already.”

Now the mouth drops. “But…you only saw her for, like, two minutes at the counter!”

Natasha quirks an eyebrow at him, looking supremely satisfied as she regards him. “Yeah, and?”

Steve just shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“That’s what I thought. Now ask him out!” she commands, and gives his arm a little squeeze. “He’ll say yes,” she adds.

How the hell does she know that? Steve isn’t nearly so sure on that score, but at least he doesn’t have to hide his trips from her any more. Can he parlay those trips into a date, like she suggests? That remains to be seen.

\--

The next day’s visit to D & B brings a surprise. As soon as he saunters up to the counter, Darcy thrusts a white paper bag, neatly folded over at the top, into his hands. 

“For your friends,” she suggests with a white-toothed grin. 

“It is? Thanks!” 

He opens it up and peeks inside to see a dozen sugar cookies with white frosting and a large red A topping them. An Avengers A. _So they know,_ he thinks to himself, and gives her a return smile. 

“Thanks, Darcy.”

The thank you really is two-fold. Thanks for the cookies, and thanks for not treating him differently just because of his name or occupation. 

“No, thank you,” she replies. “We just wanted to say we appreciate the whole protecting us from aliens thing you guys did a while back.” 

The door to the kitchen opens, issuing forth both the sound of Moonlight Serenade and the person of Bucky Barnes. 

“Hey, Steve,” he says, eyes twinkling when he sees the bag in his hands.

“Hey, thanks for the cookies,” Steve repeats, and feels a rush of blood to his head when Bucky nonchalantly leans up against the counter and smiles at him. Damn, all he has to do is look at Steve and it throws him for a loop.

“I have one more, just for you,” Bucky tells him, and reaches under the counter. 

His head buzzing, Steve hardly notices when Darcy excuses herself to run to the restroom, leaving the two of them alone in the shop. Bucky comes up with one more cookie, set in a tiny cardboard box. This time the cookie is decorated with a red ring around the outside, a blue ring inside that, and at the center, a white star. 

_His shield._ Bucky made a cookie that looks like his shield. He thought about Steve enough to do that? Butterflies flip his stomach over and back again and he honestly wants to lean over the counter and kiss the man. When Bucky hands the box to Steve, their fingers touch briefly and a jolt of electricity passes between them. Figuratively, but Steve could swear it was literally. He stares at the cookie, then looks back at Bucky, unsure of what to do with his mouth. Words, he needs words.

Bucky starts for him. “You probably don’t like it when people compliment you, but I think all around, you’re pretty special.”

His eyes are locked on Steve’s. It’s impossible to look away from their piercing intensity. Steve’s ears are ringing and his breaths are shallow. Bucky thinks he’s special. That’s quite a coincidence, because he thinks Bucky is pretty special, too. 

“I um…err…” Steve stutters, and Bucky grins.

“Yeah, just like that,” he jokes good-naturedly, and Steve positively melts. 

Bucky is so sweet. And funny. And _gorgeous._ He consciously notices now that they are alone, and it’s the perfect time to finally just ask him out, like he’s been wanting to since the first day he came in here. He’s been thinking about it. And thinking about it. He just hasn’t done it. 

No one ever called Steve Rogers reckless. 

“Bucky, I was wondering…” he starts, then falters and tries again. This dating stuff is hard. “I was wondering if you…” 

“I’d love to,” Bucky answers quickly, smiling at his uncertainty. 

Steve laughs in relief and the tenseness he didn’t know was in his shoulders disappears. “I didn’t even say what yet.”

“Doesn’t matter.” 

Steve grins. Of course Bucky would make this easy for him. “I was wondering if you’d go out with me?”

“Of course I would.” 

Magic. The tingling all over his body must be magical in some way. Has Thor opened up the Bifrost somewhere nearby? No it’s just his own body and soul, freaking out internally because Bucky said _yes_. 

Bucky’s fingertips trace a lazy circle on the counter as he leans in and shares confidentially, “Been waiting for you to ask since the first day you came in here.”

A flush of pleasure works its way up from his gut, filling Steve’s chest and providing a surge of bravery. “You have? I mean…have dinner with me Saturday?”

“I’d love to.” 

Bucky beaming at him and saying yes to a date gives him probably the best feeling he’s had since that whole protecting everyone from aliens thing worked itself out a while back. He wishes he’d said tomorrow instead of Saturday, since it’s only Monday right now. At least he’ll have something to look forward to at the end of the week.

They exchange phone numbers and settle on a time; Steve sits at a table with Bucky and has a Reuben sandwich that knocks his socks off. 

And the Avenger sugar cookies? Big hit. Monster hit. 

Steve had previously told them all they were the best sugar cookies, aside from his mother’s, that he’d ever had, and was met with skepticism. But the second Sam and Clint tasted them, they went ape-shit bananas. 

“Oh my Gawd!” Sam mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, while Clint closed his eyes and made a face like he was having an orgasm. 

“Are you kidding me?” he cried out blissfully. “They’re so soft! How does he make them so soft?”

Tony agreed via intercom to have a cookie sent down through pneumatic tube. Steve rolled his eyes and did it…only to have Tony appear in the flesh in the common room not five minutes later. 

“Alright, Rogers, what’s the deal here? What do I have to do to get in on this cookie thing you’ve got going?”

“Huh?” Steve gaped, and Tony gestured wildly to Sam and Clint, still devouring cookies over at the bar.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of crack is in these cookies, and I don’t wanna know. Just hook me up, okay? I’ll kick whoever you want out of the Tower to make room, and a pile of cookies can replace him.”

Steve chuckles dryly. “Tony, you…”

“It’s Clint, right? You want Clint gone. Done.” Tony smacks his hands together. “He never replaces the toilet paper rolls, anyway.”

“Hey!” Clint yells from his barstool, mouth full of cookie.

Sam nods his head and kicks Clint in the leg. “It’s true, man.”

“Tony, no. I…” Steve starts, and is interrupted again.

“So, Falcon, then?” 

Sam’s head spins around. “Wait, what? Now just a minute!”

Tony shakes his head sadly. “Sorry, man.” He holds his hands palm up. “No one ever died from turning the lights off when they leave a room, that’s all I’m saying.”

Clint smothers some laughter and Steve stands, waving at Tony. “TONY!” he waits for the goateed man to look at him again. “Nobody has to get kicked out! You can have cookies whenever you want.”

“I can?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.” Tony stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “That was easy.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Steve sits down, rubbing his forehead. “Now go build a robot, or something.” How did Pepper put up with him?

\--

“Why do I put up with him?” Steve moans and sags against the counter. 

Darcy laughs. “Because he’s Iron Man?” 

She has another bag of cookies in her hands and is pushing it towards Steve. Tony has had Jarvis phone in an order for a different kind of cookie every day, and Steve gets stuck carrying the bag back to the Tower with him. This marks the fifth day in a row; Steve is feeling magnanimous because it’s date day, so he takes the proffered bag and opens it up. 

“Whoa!” he exclaims. “There’s way more than a dozen in here!” 

“Yeah,” Darcy agrees. “Jarvis said unauthorized users were eating too many, so the order was tripled.”

Steve groans and hides his face in his hands. “I’ve created a monster!”

Darcy pats his shoulder and turns to help another customer who’s entered the store. “Don’t blame yourself, you had help.”

“What?” Steve asks, and she points at the bag.

“Look again,” she says.

He peeks inside again, and then he sees it. They’re sugar cookies, but this time decorated with a blue and white triangle in the center and blue dots of frosting all around the outer edge. _It’s the arc reactor_. 

“Seriously?” He shuts the bag while Darcy giggles at him. 

“His idea,” she squeaks, pointing toward the kitchen. “Not mine!”

Bucky unsuspectingly emerges from the kitchen just then and stops in his tracks when Steve says, “Why are you encouraging him?”

He’s got the bag in his hands, beseeching Bucky to see reason.

Bucky just laughs and shrugs. “But he’s _Iron Man_!”

\--

It’s later that day and Steve belatedly realizes he probably should have gotten a little more input from Nat when he had the chance. The day he’d asked Bucky out, as soon as he got back Natasha had given him a subtle eye, and he just smiled and nodded. She’d thrown her hands in the air and said “Hallelujah,” and that was the end of it. No inquisition, which at the time he was heartily thankful for. 

Now, however, he’s slightly panicked. What do you wear on a first date? How far do you go on a first date? Kissing? A _lot more_ than kissing? He hasn’t actually been on a real date since the early forties, as embarrassing as that is, and social mores have changed. He doesn’t know what Bucky’s expectations are, or even what his own are.

He takes a deep, cleansing breath as he pushes the doorbell to Bucky’s apartment building and waits to be buzzed in. He’s wearing jeans and a soft Henley shirt. It’s a blue color that Clint jokingly told him once makes his eyes look “dreamy.” Dreamy sounded good to him so that’s what he went with. 

There is a buzz and a click, and Steve pushes open the door and climbs the stairs to the third floor. It’s a pretty small structure, three levels with several apartments on each floor, and even though it’s probably an older building it’s been kept up well. The grey tile floor is clean and the paint looks relatively fresh. 

As he exits the stairwell he sees an open door and heads for it. As soon as he sees Bucky’s face, his panic fades away. Bucky looks _fantastic_ in jeans and a snug v-neck that does wonders for his chest. Steve is a little bit overcome with the sudden spike of desire that washes through him. He’s still nervous, but now it’s eager nervousness. He _wants_. 

“You look great,” he breathes as he comes up on Bucky’s door, and the smile Bucky bestows on him fills him even more with heady need. 

Bucky’s eyes travel slowly down his body and back up, and if the gaze lasts any longer Steve’s dick is going to start pushing uncomfortably against the front of his jeans. 

“You look sensational,” he coos, and tentatively leans in to plant a kiss right on Steve’s lips, soft and light. 

Though he only touches him with his mouth, his proximity to Steve is such that he can feel his body heat. He’s surprised Bucky is this forward, but pleasantly so, and he happily kisses him back, letting his eyes drift shut as the press of their lips lingers. If this is how the evening is going to go, he’s pretty okay with that. 

Bucky pulls back with a murmured “Mmmm.” He smiles. “Sorry, but I’ve been wanting to do that all week.”

Eyes widening, Steve exclaims, “You have?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I don’t think you know how incredible you are.”

His eyes are so earnest, so beautiful, it’s hard for Steve to think straight. But his instinct very clearly points him in one direction—right into Bucky’s arms. He reaches out for Bucky’s hips, grasping them to pull him in closer. 

“I know I think _you’re_ incredible,” he says softly, and leans in for another kiss. 

Bucky’s arms go around him as well as they press against each other and kiss, deeper this time. Deeper and longer. The taste of Bucky, sweet and rich, fills him. He could do this all day. Bucky’s hands move over his back slowly and their chests rub together in such a delightful way, his brain may have actually short-circuited. 

The only thing he can think about is Bucky’s mouth on his, Bucky’s tongue moving inside him, licking deeply into his mouth. The longer the kiss goes on, the hotter it gets. They stay molded against each other in Bucky’s doorway, making out with little care for who walks by in the hallway. A low moan is torn straight from Bucky’s throat, egging Steve on. His arms encircle Bucky and his hands rest over his lower back. Any lower and he could cop a feel of his terrific ass. 

_Jesus_ that thought alone proves to be a little too arousing though, and is Steve’s undoing. His dick is getting really interested in what’s going on, and just as he’s thinking maybe they need to back off here before things get out of hand, Bucky starts to pull away as well. 

They break apart and Bucky gives him a bashful smile. Bashful, after a kiss that could melt steel! 

His long eyelashes flutter at Steve. “Maybe we should go, before I pull you inside and keep you here all night.”

“Whatever you want,” Steve replies, somewhat breathlessly and ambiguously, but he backs away and lets Bucky close up his door and lock it. Whatever nerves he had before, they’re all gone. Now he just wants Bucky, as much of him as he can get, and he’s willing to wait however long it takes. 

They head for the stairs with Bucky sliding his hand into Steve’s, and it feels good to walk that way to the restaurant. Dinner is wonderful and they decide to go for a walk on the High Line afterward, the greenbelt made on an old, unused and elevated railway track. It’s a stretch of about a mile and a half, and they take it at a leisurely pace, joining hands again and talking. 

It’s already the best night Steve has had in…well, maybe ever. He likes the way Bucky’s hand fits in his. And the way Bucky looks at him in the dwindling light. And the way his heart skips a beat when their shoulders touch as they amble along. 

There are a lot of other pedestrians out with them, all enjoying the mild weather, but no one pays them any mind and they can talk freely. There’s no lack of conversation, either. Steve has gotten to hear all about Bucky’s upbringing and his family, and Bucky has been curious about Steve’s background too. Once they exhausted that line of questioning they moved on to their more current situations.

“How long have you known Darcy?” 

“Since we both dropped out of college,” Bucky confesses. He smiles at Steve’s surprised look. “I took some business classes, but all I ever really wanted to do was bake. She was a kindred spirit, so we decided to just go for it and open our own place.”

“You guys are both so very talented,” Steve tells him, meaning it completely. “I can see why your place is so successful.”

Bucky looks touched. “Thank you,” he says, very seriously. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone has told me.” 

“The music, though, what’s going on there?” Steve returns, canting his head to one side. “Big band, really?” 

Bucky laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It reminds me of my grandma. She let me help her bake when I was a boy, and she loved that kind of music. She would play it while we rolled dough or baked cookies.” He pauses, smiling at the memories. “I know it’s old as shit and nobody our age listens to it anymore, but I like it.”

Steve clears his throat and scratches his forehead with his free hand. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

Bucky takes both of Steve’s hands, pulling him to a stop next to him. “I’m sorry, I forgot,” he says. “That stuff isn’t really old to you, is it. I probably just made you feel ancient.”

Steve shrugs lightly. “I love those songs,” he admits. “And no, they don’t feel old to me, it feels just like yesterday that they were popular.” He looks down at their feet. “Sometimes it feels like I’m standing still and time is still racing past me.”

Bucky gives his hands a warm squeeze and smiles mischievously. “I get it, and if it helps, I don’t think of you as an old man, even if you are one.”

Steve throws his head back and laughs. “ _Not_ helping.” 

Bucky leans in and gives him just a peck on the cheek. “How about this…I still want you to come home with me tonight.”

Steve stops laughing but doesn’t stop smiling. “That’s helping.”

“Does this help too?” Bucky kisses him on the lips, slowly and with just enough purpose to light a fire inside Steve that catches and starts to burn. 

“That helps.” Steve’s voice is low and gravelly. 

Bucky’s eyes glimmer in the light of the sinking sun. “Let’s go then.”

They pick up their pace just a bit as they exit the greenbelt and head back to Bucky’s apartment. Steve is excited and nervous at the same time. He’s not really sure what he’s doing, or what’s going to happen tomorrow, but he knows he wants this. He knows he wants to feel Bucky in his arms, feel their bodies come together. He doesn’t just want it, he needs it. For the first time in ages, he’s found someone who makes him feel alive again, and he wants to experience that in every way possible. 

As soon as they are inside Bucky’s apartment, the door is closed, and a light gets flipped on, Bucky takes Steve’s hand again and leads him from the living room down the hall to his bedroom. Trying to kiss and take clothes off at the same time is a messy business but they make the attempt anyway, trading sloppy, in-motion kisses and laughing when they trip over each other. 

Jeans and undies get kicked off last and finally Bucky stands before Steve, his glorious physique revealed in full. Glorious doesn’t do it justice. They’re both hard as they look each other up and down. _Damn._ Bucky is _built._ Hard muscles as far as the eye can see, and oceans of smooth skin. 

Bucky whispers, “Lie down and let me see you,” and takes Steve’s arm as he climbs onto the bed on his knees. 

Following him, Steve gets on and lies on his back. Bucky comes to him, crawling over the top of him on his hands and knees and caging him underneath his limbs. 

“Ohh, _Steve_.” 

The declaration is short but full of lust and _affection_ , too, and Steve feels the words all the way down to his toes. Bucky leans his dark head down and kisses the center of his chest, right over his sternum, then moves back up to his mouth and kisses him there, slowly, swiping his tongue across the inside of Steve’s bottom lip. Steve opens his mouth wider and allows Bucky in, then slides his hands down the sides of his body and pulls him down so their forms are flush together, hot skin on hot skin.

Allowing his knees to slide out from under him, Bucky melts down on top of him and groans in a wonderfully filthy way when their cocks touch. He starts grinding against Steve immediately and Steve encourages him by gripping those firm butt cheeks in his hands and assisting his rocking motion. Sweet mercy, his ass is fantastic, all rounded, solid muscle. The friction his movement creates brings a needy moan to his own lips, which gets swallowed down by Bucky as they continue kissing. 

Bucky’s elbows and forearms are around Steve’s head, his knees on the bed around his thighs as he rocks his body up and down, dragging his thick cock over Steve’s stomach and alongside his erection. Steve can feel the wetness of Bucky’s pre-come on his stomach and knows he too is leaking from the tip of his cock, spreading it over Bucky’s lower abdomen as he ruts against him. 

It doesn’t take long for the room to get steamy hot and their bodies feverish; a light sheen of sweat forms on both their chests. Steve can see Bucky’s skin looking slightly shiny in the light coming from the hall and the moonlight coming from the window. He’s completely lost in the moment, blissfully celebrating the feel of their cocks sliding together, over and over. It’s everything—Bucky’s huge shaft rubbing over his, his weight pressing down into Steve’s body, his muscles shaking under Steve’s hands. _Everything_.

He knows he’s going to come soon. His orgasm is building, starting with that coiled heat in his groin and growing till his midsection is on fire and waves of pleasure begin rolling through him. He moans again, the sound harsh in the quiet of the night, and it only seems to encourage his partner to speed up. God, he’s gonna come so hard, he’s almost there, and he keens with pleasure without even realizing it until he hears the sound coming from his own mouth. 

Bucky is panting hard above him, a sound Steve didn’t realize he wanted to hear until he did. _He’s_ the one doing that to Bucky, the one stealing his breath away, and it’s magnificent. Once they reach that frenzied pace, with so much friction it’s like sparks are going to start flying between them, it’s almost no time at all before Steve reaches his peak. With a cry he spills himself, spurting all over both their stomachs, an eruption of heat and joy and pure, unbridled _lust_. 

Bucky orgasms a few seconds after he does, arching his back beautifully and throwing his head to the ceiling, moaning out his pleasure in several short bursts that come in time with thrusts of his pelvis. He paints Steve’s stomach with his release and Steve keeps his arms wrapped around his body, hands on his lower back to hold him close. 

_Fuck_ (pardon his French). That was better he ever thought it could be. Slowly Bucky’s movements still as he rides out his orgasm. It takes them both a minute to catch their breath. Bucky slides down bonelessly and rests on top of him, letting Steve take his full weight, which is _awesome_. 

After a minute of recovery time, which they both spend silently panting, Bucky rolls to one side and gets into his bedside table drawer for something to clean up with. Thoughtfully, he swabs at Steve’s stomach first, while he’s still lying face up and basking in the afterglow of their orgasms, then cleans himself up second. He’s on his side facing Steve, propped up on one elbow.

“That was…amazing,” he breathes, and ducks his head down for another kiss, slow and gentle. 

Steve agrees. Vehemently. When their lips separate he verbalizes this quite succinctly. “Fuck yeah it was.”

Did those words just come out of his mouth? He doesn’t curse much on most days. Or at all. Even when the shit hits the fan in a battle, he stays calm. But then again, this isn’t like most days. He brings one hand up and pulls Bucky’s head back to his, kissing him hard on the mouth. Bucky responds to his touch, scooting closer and running his hand over Steve’s chest. 

He finds one nipple and lingers there, playing with it by rubbing the pad of his fingertip over it in slow circles till it tightens into a hard nub. Groaning with delight, Steve arches up slightly into his touch. He’s getting hard again in other places, too, even though it’s only been a few minutes since his last erection. Turns out refractory time is pretty non-existent in serum-enhanced humans. 

Bucky’s hand strays south, running over his abdomen and into every little dip his six pack has to offer before he discovers Steve’s cock at half-mast. Surprised, he pulls his head back enough to look into his eyes. 

“You’re getting hard already,” he observes, sounding both impressed and aroused. 

“Well, the serum…” Steve starts to say, and Bucky finishes his sentence with an “Ahhhh, the serum speeds some things up.”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly, examining Bucky’s eyes in the low light. His pupils are wide but his eyes still as alluring as always, even without the blue being visible. He can’t believe what’s happening right now, what lucky star he was born under. Even as horny as he is, he really just wants to make Bucky happy, make him feel good. Is it intimidating to be with someone who can get it up over and over without the usual waiting period? Will Bucky think he’s a nymphomaniac? Or that he wasn’t satisfied? Maybe they need to slow down. 

He starts a sentence but can’t finish it. “It’s okay if you aren’t…if you don’t…”

“Shut up and let me make you all the way hard,” Bucky says, grinning devilishly. 

So maybe they don’t need to slow down. Bucky shifts downward on the bed to get between Steve’s legs, and wraps his arms around his thighs to hold him down. A microsecond later Steve practically bucks up off the bed, because without warning a warm mouth encircles his shaft and sucks him down. 

“Oh my God!” he shouts, and sinks his hands into Bucky’s short hair. 

Bucky’s lips fasten around his length and don’t let go. He moves Steve’s cock expertly in and out of his mouth, sucking and licking in just the right combination to drive Steve insane. If he was only half-hard before, he’s completely hard now. That’s when the words start tumbling out of his mouth. _Dirty_ words, and sentences too. 

Sentences like, “Your mouth feels so good on my cock” and “Look at your pretty lips sucking me down.” 

Sentences that if he wasn’t in the middle of sex, would embarrass, even mortify him. 

But they _are_ in the middle of sex, so instead it just turns him on. Bucky’s got one hand on his shaft, tugging at it while he laps at the head of his cock at the same time, sucking just the tip into his wet mouth. Steve’s erection is huge and thick, and he’s getting more desperate to thrust up into Bucky’s mouth the longer this goes on. God, does he want to fuck Bucky’s mouth. But Bucky's arms are holding him down, and that feels pretty good, too. Not to mention his tongue dragging over his shaft, over and over from root to tip. Bucky twists his wrist as he strokes him and that’s so good, he’s going to fall apart soon. When Bucky swallows his cock down and hollows his cheeks around it, Steve can’t take any more. 

“God, B, I’m gonna come again,” he manages to grind out through frantic moans, getting close to the edge. 

Bucky pulls off and licks his lips, bringing his eyes back to Steve’s. He pants a few shallow breaths before saying, “Come inside me. I want you inside me.”

That’s all Steve needs to hear. In a flash he’s up and rolling Bucky over onto his back on the other end of the bed to get on top of him, kissing him savagely on the mouth as he does so. Bucky kisses back and it’s just as hard, just as demanding. He tastes of himself and of Steve’s salty pre-come. 

Steve is so turned on he almost forgets about the necessities until Bucky gasps at him, “Bottom drawer,” and points to one side of the bed. 

Hurriedly he disentangles himself from his new lover and yanks open the indicated drawer. Oh, yeah. Lube. Might come in handy. Snatching up the tube, he quickly squirts some onto his fingers and tosses the tube onto the bed nearby so he can get back to Bucky, who has pulled his knees almost all the way up to his chest and _oh, my_ , he’s pretty bendy for a big guy. 

Hovering over the top of him again, Steve looks down and feels his breath catch in his throat. Bucky is just so gorgeous, sweaty and wrung out already, lips swollen and red from kissing him and sucking his dick, looking like he’s so ready to be fucked. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve breathes, and his eyes drop further down, finding that bit of darker colored skin, puckered and ready for him. “Christ, look at your tight little hole,” he whispers, and slides his lubed fingers right over it. 

_Fuck._ He wants inside there badly. Bucky moans when Steve touches him and tosses his head back on the bed. 

“Oh God, Steve,” he begs, “Don’t stop. Don’t stop talkin’. Wanna hear you talk dirty to me while you fuck me.”

So, swell! Bucky being on board with filthy language is a good thing, because Steve doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to. Something about Bucky just brings it out in him. He rubs his fingers over Bucky’s hole just to hear him groan again, then slides in one finger and fucks him with it slowly. 

“You want this? You want my cock inside you?” he teases seductively, voice deep and throaty, and the filthy sound Bucky makes has him ready to shoot his load again. 

He slips in another finger and works them in and out, scissoring to stretch him and to find the spot that will stimulate his prostate as well. When he finds it, Bucky cries out an ecstatic, “Yes!” that has Steve feeling like a volcano ready to blow. 

Pulling his fingers out, he gets his shaft lubed up and ready, kneeling in front of Bucky and using his hands on his shins to push his legs up out of the way. He lines up as fast as he can but pushes in slowly, carefully so he won’t hurt him. That first breach is like heaven, all hot, soft channel opening up to take him. It’s almost enough to make him cry, it’s so perfect. 

Leaning forward, he pushes in to seat himself fully, taking his time. Bucky’s body clenches around him in the most fascinating and delicious way. He rolls his hips, withdrawing and plunging back in slowly, deeply.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll feel it next week,” he promises, and Bucky just groans unintelligibly, closing his eyes and letting Steve take the reins. 

He thrusts in, just a little bit harder each time, snapping his hips rhythmically. The sweat on his chest starts to build again as he picks up his pace, driving in deeper and deeper, till he can’t go any further. He sets a steady rhythm, fucking in and out, loving the way Bucky clenches around him.

“Oh yeah, your ass is so perfect for me. Gonna fill you up,” he groans out, in between heavy breaths. “Damn, I wanna eat you out,” he confesses, looking down and watching his cock disappear inside Bucky’s body. Something to look forward to another day, hopefully. For right now, ramming in and out of that perfect ass is more than enough.

He can’t ever really let go with anyone during sex, his strength being what it is. Out of necessity he has to hold back… but this, this is maybe as close as he’ll ever get to fucking anyone with abandon. Bucky is strong, almost matching him in size, and it feels so good to pound into him, there just aren’t words to describe it.

The blissed-out look on Bucky’s face tells him he’s enjoying it, too. Steve picks up his pace, punching in and pulling out faster and faster, his strokes becoming shorter and shorter. He withdraws only partially, slamming back in repeatedly, knowing he’s found Bucky’s spot by the way he’s gripping his own knees and moaning. His cock is rock-hard again, too, and Steve has a sudden desire to see Bucky’s hand wrapped around it.

“Touch yourself for me,” he rasps. “I want you to come while I’m fucking you.”

Bucky’s eyes fly open and he watches Steve’s face as he reaches down with one hand and grips his own cock, rubbing his thumb over the slit. Steve licks his lips and stares greedily, but doesn’t stop thrusting with his own pelvis as Bucky pumps his hand up and down. It only takes a few strokes before white streaks decorate his stomach and chest, and his head falls back again in divine ecstasy.

“Oh, yessss,” Steve slurs in sated delight. “You’re so gorgeous.”

That pretty much does it for Steve, too, seeing Bucky finish himself off. He comes, hard, the sudden fiery intensity of it taking him by surprise. His body jerks and the successive pulses of sweet, exultant release almost blind him. He swears, he can see white stars filling his field of vision. Driving forward on his knees and clutching at Bucky’s shoulders, he stays there, emptying himself completely. When the aftershocks have settled and the spasm that rocked his entire body has released, he disengages and falls down onto the bed next to his lover. 

Rolling to his back, he tries to slow his breathing down enough to talk again. He feels exhausted, like he’s just had a heavy workout, only it’s a hundred times better than that. Sex with Bucky is a workout he’d gladly take on every day. 

That’s when it occurs to him, he doesn’t really know what Bucky’s feelings are on the matter. Steve wants a relationship, he’s absolutely positive on that account. But what does Bucky want?

He’s so deep in thought he almost misses Bucky’s words. He’s gotten something else to clean himself up with and is sitting up next to him. “You know,” he says, grinning, “If anyone had told me a month ago I would meet Captain America, I’d have said they were crazy.” He tosses a towel down over the side of the bed and lies down next to Steve on his side, facing him and propping his head on his hand.

“And now that you have?” Steve asks, almost afraid to hear the answer. Is this the part where Bucky says how great it was, and he’ll call him, and then never does? Is this the part where he gets the brush-off after a one-night stand hook-up?

“Now I want _more_.” 

Steve lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “You do?” he says, hope filling his voice. 

Bucky smiles as if this was obvious, and leans over to rest his chin on Steve’s chest. “You seem constantly surprised by me wanting to spend time with you.” Then his eyes change into something more revelatory. “Did you think all I wanted was one night with you? Because that’s completely wrong.”

“I didn’t know what to think,” Steve answers honestly, reaching down to cup his hand at the back of Bucky’s head. “But I want more than one night with you. I want a lot of nights with you.” Again, Bucky’s smile intoxicates him. “In fact, all the nights, actually,” he half-jokes, and lifts his head to meet Bucky half way when he rises up to kiss him. 

“You can have all my nights,” Bucky tells him, and sinks back down with his chin on his hand at Steve’s pec. 

Steve’s grin is a mile wide. It’s almost too good to be true. Again he wonders just what he did to deserve someone like Bucky in his life. And realizes that if he hadn’t been so pissed off at Tony, he never would have taken that walk that led him straight here in the first place. 

He groans, causing Bucky to ask curiously, “What?”

Steve smiles again, chagrined. “I think we owe Tony more cookies.”


End file.
